


The Scars Between Us

by rkdawg



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Mutual Pining, NaNoWriMo, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Slow Burn, There will be smut... eventually, Undergoing a rewrite atm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-16
Packaged: 2021-01-16 07:51:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 16,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21267602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rkdawg/pseuds/rkdawg
Summary: Tasked with playing the role of lovers when a serial killer targeting same-sex couples plagues the Imperial Capital, Hubert von Vestra and Ferdinand von Aegir must come to terms with the spark of attraction that underlies their every interaction... while not ending up victims of a disturbed individual.NaNoWriMo 2019 project.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Rating will eventually be 'E', but not for quite some time - I do need to space out the slow burn across 50,000 words, after all!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updated 07.11.19: Included info on murders.  
Updated 16.11.19: Included info on appearances plus rewrite of baker part.  
Updated 17.11.19: Included prologue featuring backstory (no more confusion, hopefully!).  
Updated 19.11.19: A big rewrite of this chapter (and soon the rest). It is hopefully an improvement.

_The five years' war was over, but the memories were still fresh in the minds of the people. The bitter stalemate between the Empire and the combined forces of the Kingdom and the Alliance was over, their respective leaders agreeing to a welcome but uneasy truce. _

_The former Academy professor Byleth Eisner had returned from her five year slumber only a few months earlier. Finding Byleth alive set a new course for the Adrestian Empire – the Emperor Edelgard von Hresvelg had been persuaded to accept a future of compromise and cooperation, rather than one of force and bloodshed. Tired of all the fighting, and yearning for the support of someone she admired so deeply, Edelgard began taking steps to undoing the damage she and the Empire had caused. Hubert, ever loyal to Her Majesty, was by her side during this difficult time, but so too were Ferdinand and Byleth, and she was grateful for their advice and support._

_The leaders and loyal followers of the Church of Seiros, who took shelter in Fhirdiad during the war, were busy rebuilding Garreg Mach Monastery. Archbishop Rhea had chosen to take a step back from her role, entrusting more responsibility on Seteth and Flayn. Flayn had shown a remarkable talent for bringing people together, her kind heart and curious mind endearing her to the common folk. Seteth took on his extra duties with the sort of grim determination one could only expect from him._

_Claude von Reigan appointed Lorenz as the new leader of the Alliance, revealing himself to be the Royal Prince of Almyra. Vowing to open the world to trade and travel, Claude was working on proving himself worthy to wear his father's crown, as well as showing Fodlan that Almyra—and vice versa—would make a far greater ally than foe. He was both resourceful and clever – if anyone could do it, Claude could._

_Lorenz Hellman Gloucester flourished in his role as leader of the Alliance, and he found not only a friend but a political ally in Ferdinand von Aegir. Lorenz showed a particular talent in making the noble lords and ladies happily agree to changes that benefited the common people, making him a popular leader in general._

_Petra Macneary, now Queen of Brigid, declared Brigid's independence from the Empire soon after the war - with Edelgard's earnest and sincere approval. She wished to combine the culture of Brigid with the cultures of the other nations, setting up embassies in Enbarr, Fhirdiad, and Derdriu, and she was in talks with Claude about establishing one in Almyra._

_Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, King of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus, worked tirelessly to improve the lives of all citizens, noble and common. He relied heavily on the help of not only Dedue Molinaro but also Felix Hugo Fraldarius, his right-hand man and most trusted adviser, jokingly calling Felix his 'left eye'. He still struggled with coming to terms with the past, and his losses, but with the help of his faith and friends, Dimitri was able to focus more on the future and present._

_The world was only just being shaped into something new – this time, they would try to make it one they could all agree on. _

* * *

Candlelight flickered dimly across the page as Edelgard diligently worked late into the night, the scratch of her quill accompanied by the occasional crackle of the nearby fireplace. She was busy drafting a proposal that would provide better rights and pay for those in menial labour. It would need to be proofed and finalised by Ferdinand, who was, admittedly, better versed in such matters. Technically, this did not even fall within her duties as emperor, but Edelgard despised the idea of not actively playing a role in the lives of her people. Hubert would surely scold her for overworking herself, but she was determined to get this proposal done in time for tomorrow's council meeting.

Edelgard ran a hand through her white hair, unpinned and flowing freely down her back, and sighed tiredly. The dark circles under her lavender eyes were stark against her pale skin. It had been a taxing past few months; overhauling both the crest and nobility system at once was a slow, tedious process. With every step forward, they were met with heavy resistance from not just the nobility, but also the common people, many of whom were frightened of a world they didn’t yet understand or appreciate. 

Edelgard was thankful for the support of not only her friends and comrades, but of her former professor, Byleth. The miraculous return of Byleth after five long years had marked the beginning of peace within not just the Empire, but the entire continent. Edelgard had felt whole again, and with a new sense of hope, had allowed the professor to guide her towards a future of compromise and unity. 

There was a soft knock on the door. The professor entered with a tray of tea and baked treats held carefully in her hands. With a gentle smile, she bumped the door closed with her hip and placed the tray on the coffee table. Two sealed missives were rolled up next to the iced cookies, but Edelgard ignored them for now. Sinking down into one of the deep red armchairs, she sighed in exhaustion. Byleth sat across from her, and Edelgard was still amazed at how her pale green eyes and hair almost seemed to glow. The professor had shared with her the truth behind the transformation—how the goddess Sothis and she were now one—and it had meant the world to Edelgard, to be so trusted.

Byleth poured the tea skillfully, a perfectly brewed pot of bergamot that gave off the subtle scent of orange and lime. Edelgard accepted one of the cups gratefully and took a delicate sip. She blushed when her stomach gurgled loudly; she hadn't eaten since early evening. Byleth handed her a lemon cookie. “They're excellent with the tea.”

Nibbling on the treat, Edelgard put her cup aside and reached over for the missives, unable to ignore her duties for long. One was a rather long-winded report on the Empire’s military status, something she could leave for later. The other was a coded message regarding the movements of ‘Those Who Slither in the Dark’. Once memorised, Edelgard disposed of Hubert's note in the fire, as per his instructions. Thales was still out there somewhere, possibly masquerading as one of her own. It was a chilling thought, to know he could be watching from close by, but all she could do for now was keep any eye on any suspicious activity.

Byleth fidgeted with her tea cup, turning it around on its plate. “El… I also bring news from town.” 

“Hmm?” 

Edelgard looked up from her second cookie, mouth full and icing all around her lips. Byleth giggled, and she flushed, embarrassed. She dabbed at her mouth with a napkin, her blush reaching the tips of her ears when the professor wiped off some icing on her nose. Edelgard hastily waved at her to continue speaking.

Byleth cleared her throat. She looked troubled, and Edelgard leaned forward to give her full attention.

“There have been two more murders.”

* * *

The baker’s wife sobbed in her husband’s arms, inconsolable. The baker nodded at his neighbour, a reluctant messenger of the news. A crowd had formed around the shopfront, whispering to one another while they watched. Two men were dead, but all they cared about was gossip.

“I heard that they were found naked on the riverbed!”

“Disgraceful - an affront to nature!”

“No wonder he turned up his nose at Amelia's daughter.”

The baker didn’t care if his son had been involved with another man. He just wanted him back home, alive and well. He thought of their final moments together, a hasty 'good morning' said before dawn. He had hurried to the shop, focused on collecting the morning deliveries and starting the first batch of bread. Regret bloomed deep within his heart. He couldn't even remember the last time he'd held his son, let alone said 'I love you'. And now he'd never get another chance.

* * *

“Hubert!”

Smiling brightly, Ferdinand greeted Hubert with his usual cheer. His copper curls were styled immaculately into smooth waves, and he wore a red coat with gold trimmings, his cravat carefully selected to match the black and gold buttons. Everything about the man was so vibrant and loud; Hubert felt irritated, as though Ferdinand's sunny disposition were intruding on his shade. He needed more coffee, clearly, if Ferdinand was affecting him so easily.

Hubert attempted a smile—more of a grimace--and gestured towards the doorway. “After you, Ferdinand.”

They had been summoned to meet with Her Majesty, and the professor, in Edelgard's private office. Attached to the parlour in her quarters, she could work there at her leisure no matter how late or early it was. The office also had the most wonderful view of the main gardens, which was beautiful both at day and night. 

Both Hubert and Ferdinand were brimming with curiosity. The mage was far better at hiding it than the cavalier, who was practically bouncing on his heels. While they often had tea and coffee together, somewhat of a friendship forming during the war, the two ministers worked in two vastly different areas, rarely affording them a reason to work in tandem. Hubert was in charge of matters regarding the imperial household, not to mention his role within the shadows, while Ferdinand handled domestic matters concerning the government and the citizens of not just Enbarr, but the whole Empire.

The four of them sat around a small coffee table, a delicate tea set and a coffee pitcher already brewing. Hubert poured tea for Edelgard, a habit he had yet to get out of, adding in one cube of sugar and a dash of milk. She smiled in gratitude, taking a sip with a pleased hum. “Perfect, Hubert. Thank you.”

Ferdinand expressed his delight at seeing that Byleth was wearing his gift. It was a brooch shaped like a carnation, painted lilac and gold. They had spied it at the local market, and Byleth had immediately been drawn to the way the golden trim shined brightly in the sunlight. Hubert was reminded of Her Majesty's eyes, and he wondered if there was a deeper meaning to the accessory. He knew that Edelgard adored the professor, perhaps even loved her; he hoped this was a sign that her affections were returned. Hubert wanted nothing more than for Edelgard to be happy.

Hubert had drank half his coffee when Edelgard cleared her throat, drawing everyone's attention.

“Thank you for joining us. I’m sure you are both wondering why I have summoned you so suddenly.”

Edelgard looked over at Byleth, for support. Byleth smiled encouragingly. 

“I have a mission of great import that requires...” She pursed her lips. “It requires _cooperation_ between the two of you. Tell me – are either of you aware of the recent string of murders that have plagued the citizens of Enbarr?”

Hubert nodded, his dark fringe falling across his right eye like a veil. He had been following the case ever since the first attacks. There had been four victims up until yesterday – two more had been killed, their bodies found on the riverbed near the forest outskirts.

“My spies report that the victims were all males, presumably in pairs of lovers. There have been three couples killed so far.” Hubert leaned forward in his seat. “The third couple was killed only yesterday, I believe.”

“Correct.”

Folding her hands in her lap, Edelgard continued.

“It seems that a pattern can be established now, with one couple per month.” She frowned, finding the topic distasteful. “The victims were killed in a variety of ways. Strangulation, stabbings, and even suffocation. Some clearly struggled before their death. But the majority of the details have been withheld and the investigation poor at most.” 

Ferdinand frowned, listening intently. The very idea of a serial killer running rampant in his beloved city chilled him deep to his core. The very reasoning behind it—someone against same-gendered love—was incomprehensible to Ferdinand, and certainly no reason to commit murder. He wasn't sure why Edelgard was bringing this to their attention, however. There was very little he himself could do, though he could certainly look into the matter.

Suddenly, it all became clear. Clapping his hands together, Ferdinand exclaimed, “You must wish for Hubert and I to find the killer!”

Edelgard cocked her head, unsure if he actually understood her.

“Why, yes, Ferdinand. The professor and I discussed the matter, and we thought you two to be the best team for such a unique task. But I shall not force you if you feel uncomfortable...”

Ferdinand beamed, completely oblivious to her meaning.

“Why ever would I be uncomfortable with catching a murderer?”

Gritting his teeth, Hubert pinched the bridge of his nose and slowly let out a deep breath. It was a struggle to keep his calm while his fellow minister prattled on without a clue as to what Her Majesty actually meant. Sometimes Ferdinand would leave Hubert in awe at how idiotic he could be.

“You fool!” Hubert near-snarled. “What Her Majesty means is for us to go undercover as a couple. We are to be the poisoned bait that lures the starving beast to its doom.”

Ferdinand gaped at them all in utter disbelief. His hands shook; Byleth leaned in to lay a hand atop his to steady the tea cup that clattered upon its saucer. Allowing the professor to guide him, he placed his tea on the table. Licking his lips nervously, he asked, “A couple, you say?”

“We can choose another, Ferdinand. Perhaps Hubert knows someone trustworthy to work with—“

“No!” He couldn't stand the idea of not rising to the challenge. _If Hubert can do it, then so can I!_

“I, Ferdinand von Aegir, am no coward. Hubert and I shall bring the murderer to justice!”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 20.11.19: Updated with greater detail and depth. I am doing a rewrite of the current chapters before I write Ch10 because I was unsatisfied with this, finding it lacking. I think it is much better so far. There is improved characterisation and description.

Once given the details of their new mission, Hubert and Ferdinand were dismissed. They stood outside the office, unsure of what their next move should be. Ferdinand could feel his sudden bravado from before fading. He felt nervous now, intensely aware of Hubert in a way he hadn't since his days at the academy. He had been a foolish youth, always trying to one-up Edelgard, which had earned him the ire of Hubert early on. Determined to show Hubert that he was wrong to dismiss him so callously, Ferdinand had unwittingly obsessed over the mage until Claude asked him when their wedding was. Horrified, he had retreated into himself. Then the war came, and he was too busy managing an army—and trying not to die—to think about Hubert. The distance had even given him time to learn how to act normal in his presence. He had even begun to think that it was nothing but a fleeting infatuation. And now he was to pretend to be the man's lover. _Why did I not decline when I was given the chance? _

Hubert had been speaking to Ferdinand while he was lost in his thoughts. He hadn't heard a thing. Sheepishly, he asked, “Sorry, could you repeat that?”

The mage scowled, clearly unimpressed. “Join me at my quarters. We have a lot to discuss.”

Two guards stationed nearby were eyeing them off with thinly veiled interest. Hubert looked from them to Ferdinand, then back again. Ferdinand nodded in understanding, and they both made their way down the stone corridor towards Hubert's rooms. The click of the cavalier's boots echoed along the hall, while Hubert's heels were softer – better suited for stealth and subterfuge.

When they reached his door, Hubert rolled his eyes at how Ferdinand steeled himself before crossing the threshold. “My rooms are perfectly safe, I assure you.”

Ferdinand took in the cold living room, the fireplace unlit. He had never actually been inside - he was incredibly curious to see if it was anything like he'd imagined. The room was sparsely decorated, with the bare minimum of creature comforts like rugs and cushions. There were rows of bookshelves lining the walls, and there was an interesting tribal pattern to the cloth on the dining table. Dark red curtains blocked out the sun, dimly filtering the room in deep pinks. Ferdinand desperately wanted to give the place a makeover. _Perhaps I can frame it as being task-related?_

Shutting the door with a loud click, Hubert gestured to one of the armchairs.

“Make yourself comfortable. Unfortunately, I do not tend to entertain in my rooms, so I am unable to offer you any tea or refreshments.”

The idea of the dour mage entertaining anyone in his private rooms made Ferdinand want to laugh. It also made him feel, oddly, a little jealous. He perched on the edge of a seat, his stomach churning. Ferdinand had easily had tea with Hubert on multiple occasions, but that was always somewhere in public, or in an office. He waited, his nerves frayed, while Hubert lounged back in his chair, one leg crossed over the other. Finally, Hubert spoke.

“I intend to do a good job, Ferdinand, and I'm sure you feel the same. It would not do to rush our relationship. I doubt anyone would suddenly believe that we are... lovers.” He paused, not used to saying such a word, least of all in relation to himself. “This must be believed by all_, _from our friends to the servants, all the way down to the fishmongers.”

Ferdinand agreed, but he still had concerns. “But what of the killer? How many people may fall victim while we play pretend?” It was all well and good to ensure their behaviour was in character, but not if it meant more lives were lost in the meantime.

Hubert hummed, idly tapping his fingers against the arm of the chair.

“The murders of yesterday fit the pattern of a couple per month. Based on what little information we have, we can assume that the killer will continue that pattern, giving us around a month's time to work with.” He smiled in pride. “Her Majesty's plan is truly ingenious.”

It took all of Ferdinand's willpower to not roll his eyes. Hubert thought everything Edelgard said and did was perfection itself. Still, he had to admit that it was not a terrible idea. They fit the criteria—well, Ferdinand did, though he was not entirely sure of the mage's predilections—and they worked well together. They were also in positions of power, which meant that rumours were sure to spread quickly.

“Very well, Hubert. I do agree that it is a sound plan. However...”

Ferdinand felt suddenly shy, an unfamiliar emotion for him. Loosening his cravat, he looked everywhere but at the mage, who was exuding a dark confidence that was very much _Hubert von Vestra. _He was sprawled out in his seat, all long limbs and ease, but his gaze was sharp and intense. Ferdinand felt stripped down beneath that stare; he wasn't sure if he disliked it or not. He had no wish to bare his insecurities to Hubert, but the cavalier knew it was necessary for the success of the mission.

“I have never... I've never—” Ferdinand stumbled over his words, his embarrassment making it worse. “I have never been romantically involved, you see.”

His face burned hotly, his confession bringing forth deep-seated feelings of shame and inadequacy. Ferdinand knew that there was nothing wrong with saving himself for someone he cared deeply about, but the playful jeers of his comrades still ate away at him to this day. Hubert regarded him silently, then simply said, “Ah.”

Ferdinand stood in a huff. “Well, excuse me for not dallying around—”

Hubert quickly hushed the incensed cavalier before he stormed out of the room.

“Do not be mistaken – neither have I.” Ferdinand sat back down at the confession, pacified. “We shall go slow also to acclimatise ourselves. We'll fool no-one if we are constantly flinching away from one another.”

Exhausted from the emotional back and forth of the afternoon, Ferdinand closed his eyes and waved towards the coffee table.

“Why not ring for some afternoon tea, and we can discuss the finer details of... Well, of us.”

* * *

Edelgard was pleasantly surprised at how easily both Hubert and Ferdinand had accepted the unusual mission. The two ministers were devoted to the Empire, but it was no small ask. Their relationship was much improved from their academy days—as was hers and Ferdinand's—but playing the role of lovers was quite a leap. But it was a necessary deception, in her mind.

It angered her that the local lords did not care to treat the murders as worthy of their attention or time. Technically, it was their duty to investigate, but the bigotry and disgust towards homosexuality was still prevalent within society. It may no longer be prohibited, as it was a few generations ago, but it was generally frowned upon since you couldn't conceive a child—and therefore a possible Crest—with someone of the same gender.

Edelgard felt powerless. She was angry at both the situation and her inability to directly do anything about it. Grabbing her axe, she headed towards the training grounds. A good sparring session with a few soldiers would surely help ease the frustration she felt. For now, Edelgard would just have to trust in her two ministers, her two right hand men, to do what she couldn't do.

* * *

Hubert and Ferdinand decided to start that evening. It was all rather chaste; they would take their evening meal together in one of the more public dining rooms, perhaps with a glass of wine or two. Ferdinand kept glancing at the office clock, time crawling ever so slow. He felt the thrum of anticipation beneath his skin, despite reminding himself over and over again that this 'date' was simply part of the plan. _It is nothing to get all excited about. _

When the clock hands finally landed on five o'clock, Ferdinand threw down his papers—not that he had any idea what they even said—and raced to his rooms. He quickly washed up and changed into evening wear. Eyeing his large array of clothes, Ferdinand selected an emerald green jacket with gold detailing, and a matching cravat. For a moment, he wondered if he was trying too hard, but he reasoned that there was no harm in looking his best. Running his hands through his hair and patting down some wild curls, Ferdinand gave his reflection his most confident smile.

When he walked into the dining room, he was a little breathless from rushing most of the way. Ferdinand blinked in surprise; a lavish meal was laid out on the mahogany table, much fancier than he'd expected. An ornate candelabra dominated the centre of the table, and an artful wreath of roses were arranged around its silver base. Hubert had also changed clothes, wearing a deep red coat that Ferdinand had never seen before. It made his light green eyes stand out even more than usual. Ferdinand decided that red was a very nice colour on the mage.

“Ferdinand. I'm so pleased you could join me.” Hubert's voice was silky smooth. “Would you care for some wine? While I can only attest for the red—a delectably dry vintage with subtle pepper undertones—I am certain the white is to your standards.”

Hubert pulled a chair out for Ferdinand, and he sat down unsteadily. The mage loomed above him for a moment longer than necessary before he returned to his own seat. Ferdinand was startled when a servant popped out of a side door to pour him a glass of each wine, disappearing just as quickly. Feeling the need for liquid courage, he took a hasty gulp out of both glasses. Ferdinand pulled a face at the dry red; Hubert smirked, amused, and Ferdinand tried not to pout.

Hubert chuckled. “More a fan of the white? I'll have to remember that.”

Gesturing to the food, Hubert made a few recommendations before they both started to dig in. As Ferdinand began to relax, he found himself drawn into easy conversation about subjects he and Hubert were both comfortable with. Politics, tea and coffee prices, their days at the academy, the gossip Dorothea brought back from her visit with Lorenz. Ferdinand felt at ease for the first time all day. He had almost forgotten about their mission when Hubert leaned over to place his bare hand on his own. The mage's hand looked so very pale against Ferdinand's lightly tanned skin. Mouth dry, he watched enthralled as Hubert covered his hand fully, running the tips of his fingers down the back of Ferdinand's. It was a subtle movement, but far more intimate than it had any right to be. Ferdinand looked up from their hands to find Hubert staring intently at him, somehow managing to look both frightening and beautiful in the dim candlelight.

Soft footsteps from behind them caused them to quickly break apart. Two servants began to clear the table, and Ferdinand hoped he didn't look as flustered as he felt. His cheeks were burning, and his hand trembled – he brushed off imaginary lint from his jacket, hoping the mage didn't notice his reaction. Ferdinand pulled his gloves back on in a hurry, needing the sense of security. He allowed Hubert to walk him back to his rooms, wondering how it was that the mage seemed entirely unaffected by what had just transpired. _Because it is just a farce to him, you foolish man._

Hubert smiled down at him, but his thoughts looked to be elsewhere. “That was rather enjoyable. And successful, I dare say.”

Ferdinand smiled back hollowly, wanting to cry. “...Yes, I agree. Good night, Hubert.”  
  
In the safety of his bedroom, Ferdinand sobbed into his pillow. He had thought his feelings for the mage a thing of the past, but now, it was all rushing back. The pain, the heartache, and the yearning. He didn't know how he was going to get through the next month, pretending to be Hubert's lover when he desperately wanted it to be true.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 21.11.19: Updated with new rewrite. Chapters 4+ will not make as much sense unless they have been updated past this date. I'm making this story so much better, I swear, so bear with me!

The next week was fairly uneventful. Both Hubert and Ferdinand were busy with their duties, the delegation of their low-priority tasks slower than expected. They both had capable staff, but they themselves were perfectionists, and it was difficult for them to relinquish control. Nonetheless, Hubert found a way to spread rumours despite their conflicting schedules. Whenever their paths crossed in the castle hallways, the mage would pull Ferdinand aside, boxing him in against the wall. Leaning in to breathe hotly against the cavalier's ear, he would murmur something inconsequential while brushing his fingers against Ferdinand's – as if couldn't bear to keep his distance. He found Ferdinand to be terribly responsive, his cheeks flushing a deep pink and his chest rising fast with shallow breaths. Sometimes he would find himself distracted—Hubert would imagine pressing himself closer, running his tongue along Ferdinand's neck before biting down hard—but he pushed those thoughts down quickly. He had a job to do – he had to focus. Hubert was not immune to the physical charms of the other man—he was not blind—but he could control himself.

By the end of the week, Ferdinand was a nervous wreck. Perhaps the mage thought himself restrained, but even the most minute of touches were driving him mad. It took all of his willpower not to grab on to Hubert's dark robes and pull him in for a kiss. The fear of rejection, and reminder that this was all a farce, kept him from doing anything other than blush and stutter while Hubert led them along. But Ferdinand was also tired of being such a passive participant so far. He decided to send a gift to his 'lover'.

Perusing the merchant wares in town, he found a coffee merchant who was happy to import some beans from Dagda. While at the market, Ferdinand also purchased some tea, including the cinnamon blend Hubert liked. He wanted to surprise the mage somehow—show him that he could scheme, too—and it was while selecting some cured meats that an idea came to mind. _Brilliant! This will surely impress him. _Grinning to himself, Ferdinand bought all the necessary components at the market, butcher-shop, and bakery.

His final destination was the florist. Popping into the store, Ferdinand selected the most extravagant bouquet of red and white roses offered. He penned a quick message to tuck within the blooms, signing his name with an elaborate flourish. Tipping the florist with a gracious bow, the cavalier hurried back to the castle. He had a favour to ask of the kitchen staff.

* * *

Hubert was in the middle of a meeting with his staff when there was a loud knock at the door. His office door creaked open, and a child no older than twelve popped his head in, a ridiculously large bouquet of roses in his arms. He looked close to toppling over from the sheer size and weight of it. It would have been laughable if not for Hubert's sneaking suspicion that the flowers were for him.

“Delivery, m'lord! For a Hubert...” The boy quickly checked the delivery docket. “Hubert von Vestra.”

Sighing, Hubert motioned for the child to enter the room. One staff member helpfully took the bouquet and placed it in a vase, while another dismissed the boy with a gold coin. Hubert would have to reimburse her later. The red and white roses were placed on the centre of the round table, and Hubert saw that there was a note attached. Bringing the card closer to his face, he instantly identified Ferdinand's flowing cursive.

_Dearest Hubert,_

_I humbly ask that you join me tonight for an evening picnic beneath the stars._

_Please meet me at the rooftop gardens for 7pm sharp._

_Yours always, _

_Ferdinand _

His cheeks felt a little warm, and Hubert had never before been so thankful to have such shrewd and capable staff; with very little fanfare, they quickly packed up and returned to their separate office. Running a hand through his hair, dark locks sticking up haphazardly, the mage glared at the flowers. He had never received a bouquet before, but he had never imagined his first to be this overgrown travesty. Still, as he took a closer look, Hubert had to admit that the roses were almost as beautiful as those in the castle gardens. He was also curious about the evening picnic Ferdinand was planning. _What are you plotting, Ferdinand von Aegir? Whatever it is, I shall surpass it._

Sitting at his desk, he wrote a quick acceptance to the invitation and rang for a messenger.

* * *

Ferdinand sat waiting in the gardens, a carefully hand-picked selection of finger foods spread out on the blanket before him. Two bottles of wine stayed cool in an ice bucket, a red and a white, the red recommended by the castle sommelier. He had chosen a spot that gave them a semblance of privacy while also allowing any passerby or guards to see them easily. Spotting the mage as he rounded the corner, Ferdinand beamed up at him, his heart racing in anticipation. Hanging lanterns cast an otherworldly glow upon the cavalier, his hair shimmering gold in the light. Hubert faltered in his step for a second, his mouth going dry at the sight. Ferdinand had seemed more nymph than man in that moment, as beguiling as a siren who calls to her seafaring victims. _Yet all the more bewitching for his ignorance of it._

Shaking himself from such ridiculous thoughts, Hubert took a seat across from Ferdinand. His movements were stiff and awkward as he tried to arrange his legs comfortably, and he couldn't help but chuckle at himself. “I haven't sat on the ground for well over six months.”

Ferdinand huffed out a laugh, waving at his own crossed legs. “Nor have I, but I've the advantage of being able to prepare. My grace is but an illusion.”

He pointed at the cheeses, a mixture of soft and hard varieties. “Did you know that Dimitri is quite a cheese connoisseur? Years ago, we shared a platter together, and he was very informative. It is thanks to him that I knew what to pick out today at the markets.” He sliced Hubert a piece of firm, aged cheese. “Try this with the red wine. But for the softer varieties, like the blue cheese, have it with the white.”

Impressed with Ferdinand—and Dimitri's—knowledge, Hubert sampled the cheeses and wines just as the cavalier suggested. Humming in delight, the combinations undeniably perfect, he complimented Ferdinand with full sincerity. “While I have little interest in food, I will admit a weakness for this – you have selected well, Ferdinand.”

Ferdinand smiled brightly in response, and he eagerly walked the mage through the rest of their meal. Cured meats, sweet and sour conserves, olives, and pickled vegetables made up one wooden board, while fresh bread and crackers lined another. For dessert, they enjoyed a variety of berries with a bowl each of strawberry sorbet, kept cold in a special cooler that the chef had kindly allowed Ferdinand to borrow.

Ferdinand was on his third full glass of wine when he exclaimed, “Oh! I have something for you!” Rummaging through his pocket, Ferdinand took out a small package, which he handed to Hubert. Confused, and wondering if he had forgotten an important date, Hubert opened his gift carefully. He saw that it was a canister of tea leaves – cinnamon blend, in fact. His face warmed at that, knowing that Ferdinand had remembered one of the few teas he actually enjoyed. Smiling slowly, he teased, “Two gifts in one day? You're spoiling me.”

Gnawing at his lower lip, Ferdinand gulped down the rest of his drink and ducked his head low, hiding his face behind his curls. He felt giddy inside, excitement battling with his nerves. Peering up from beneath his bangs, he found Hubert watching intently, his glass of wine held against reddened lips. Ferdinand felt pinned in place, so heavy was his gaze. The evening sky and the flickering of the lanterns pushed and pulled shadows across the mage's sharp features; Ferdinand found him both sensual and terrifying. Swallowing hard, Ferdinand went to pour himself another drink. He jumped when Hubert's hands suddenly enclosed his, only to pry the bottle from his fingers.

“We do not wish to create any opportunities should the killer be watching. Let us keep our wits at all times.”

Ferdinand tried to keep his voice as low as Hubert's, but it came across more like a stage whisper. Luckily, anyone looking into the garden would simply assume they were engaged in intimate conversation.

“You suspect someone within the castle?!”

Hubert shook his head.

“I have no leads, but we shouldn't rule anyone out at this point. Anything is possible.”

Nodding dumbly, Ferdinand mulled things over while Hubert began to pack up their dishes, before quickly jumping in to assist. He felt a little light-headed, and Ferdinand wanted nothing more than to return to his rooms before he begged Hubert to join him for a 'night cap'. The alcohol was making him even more emotional than usual, and logic was struggling to convince his heart that Hubert wanted nothing to do with him romantically. _Do not make any more of a fool of yourself, Ferdinand. You must not throw yourself at Hubert von Vestra like some common whore._

Hubert walked him to his quarters, which were closer to the gardens. He gently shook the picnic basket he was carrying. “I'll return this to the kitchen for you.” Thanking him meekly, Ferdinand said good night and went to shut the door. Hubert cleared his throat loudly, and he looked up at the mage with wide eyes. Blood rushed in his ears, and Ferdinand thought he might faint from shock if Hubert asked to come in.

“Yes, Hubert?”

But it was just wishful thinking, as the mage merely thanked him for the roses. He went to bed disappointed, mainly at himself and his overactive imagination. Ferdinand wondered if it truly was just for show, the way Hubert looked at him like he was the only person in the whole world. His heart ached, because it had to be the case. _After all, Hubert had never looked at me like this before Edelgard gave us this mission._

* * *

The nightmares were not so frequent nowadays, but they still tormented her on occasion. Edelgard pulled her robe tightly around herself as she let the night shift guards know that she was going for a walk. Nodding, they followed her at a distance, far enough away for privacy but close enough to step in should she be attacked. She was more than capable of protecting herself, but as emperor, she had to be extra vigilant not just for herself, but for the Empire and its people.  
  
She had dreamt of her siblings again. Her brothers and sisters, with their strong bodies turning frail and sickly, and their minds becoming more and more demented the longer they were experimented upon. She could still hear their screams as their bodies rejected the Crests that were forced upon them. Edelgard felt a number of emotions regarding what had happened—fear, rage, powerlessness, hatred—but the worst was the guilt. Guilt that she had survived while they had not. _Why was I the only one deemed worthy of living? Why was I made to live without them - why was I left alone?_  
  
By the time she walked back into her rooms, there were tears streaming down her face. The guards said nothing – they knew by now not to.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 22.11.19: Updated with chapter rewrite.

The weekend officially began with a slight hangover for Ferdinand. He made sure to drink plenty of water with his breakfast, and he indulged with a fatty meal of fried bacon, fluffy scrambled eggs, toasted bread coated in an excess of butter, and two pork and fennel sausages. He would have to do an extra training session to make up for the extravagant meal - it would be a great excuse to take his chestnut mare Freya out for a long ride. But it would have to wait, as today he was working with both Edeldard and Hubert.

He dashed downstairs to grab some papers from the royal housekeeper Mrs Kirkpatrick. She was a stern, often brusque older woman but she had a soft heart, and she was partial to Ferdinand, who she found to be a genuine young man even if he was a little too loud. Despite the detour, he made it to the meeting room before Hubert. He was pouring himself and Edelgard some tea when the mage walked in with his arms full of rolled up documents and a stack of papers. While Hubert settled into his seat, Ferdinand readied him a cup of coffee just the way he liked it – black, with no sugar. He avoided looking directly at the mage, a little embarrassed about the previous night. While nothing had really happened, Ferdinand was still afraid that Hubert would somehow be able to discern his true feelings towards him.

Hubert thanked the cavalier with a grateful smile, enjoying his first sip with a soft hum of contentment. Ferdinand had never been fond of coffee, though he did drink it on occasion, either with Dorothea or sometimes Hubert. The songstress had a bad habit of overdosing on the bitter drink whenever she was nearing the deadline for the submission of a script. Dorothea Arnault was a name now known across the nation not just for being an amazingly talented songstress, but also a playwright. Ferdinand and Edelgard were incredibly proud of their friend, and they made sure to always attend the opening night of her shows whenever possible. Hubert was proud, too, though he was not partial to Dorothea's style of melodrama; he'd rather she focus more on the political intrigue than the romance.

Shuffling through his papers, Ferdinand handed a stack to Hubert. “Mrs Kirkpatrick has curated a list of the people she contracts for events such as this month's ball.”

Hubert skimmed over the list of names and businesses, marking those he was unfamiliar with.

“You have my thanks, Ferdinand. I shall ensure everyone is vetted thoroughly.”

They busied themselves with organising the ball they were hosting at the end of the month. It was terrible timing, but this event had been in the works for weeks. Edelgard had only just confirmed that all major parties would be able to attend on the same date. In just a few week's time, the leaders of the Kingdom of Faerghus, the Leicester Alliance, Almyra, Brigid, and the Adrestian Empire would be assembled together in a show of unity and peace. There would even be a representative of the Church of Seiros attending. Edelgard could not afford to squander the opportunity.

She poured over the blueprints of the ballroom with Hubert, making a few suggestions here and there. Ladislava, captain of Edelgard's personal guard, would finalise the security with Hubert and the castle guard-captain. The talented cavalier was currently away on leave, but she was to return within the next few days. Edelgard also took a look at Ferdinand's guest list. She was pleased to see that he had included quite a few commoners—people who had distinguished themselves through their own merit—and she made sure to tell him so. Ferdinand visibly preened at the praise. She wished that her younger self had known that verbal encouragement was the way forward with him – it would have made things so much easier.

They continued on for another hour before adjourning for the day. Edelgard and Hubert were meeting with Caspar. Caspar von Bergliez had been recently appointed as the new Minister of Military Affairs, a role he was tackling with all the gusto and enthusiasm one would expect from the fighter. They were to discuss the placement of extra soldiers within the city. Not only did they need to ensure the safety of Her Majesty's guests, but the Empire needed to prove to any would-be dissenters that their military might was beyond doubt. It was also somewhat of a social call, since she hadn't caught up with Caspar in quite some time. Edelgard linked arms with Hubert as they walked towards the waiting carriage, leaning into him with a familiarity stemming from years of friendship.

* * *

“Dorothea! You look positively dazzling, my dear friend.”

Laughing in delight, the songstress flipped her long brown hair back, the light from the window warming the curls and painting them shades of red. Sitting across from Ferdinand at the table, she cooed, “You always know just what to say to a girl, Ferdie.” Dorothea was famished, and she immediately tucked into one of the treats on the three-tiered cake stand. She almost moaned at the burst of flavours in her mouth. Chuckling, Ferdinand poured them some tea, a sweet-apple blend that he knew she loved. When Dorothea began eyeing off the tarts, he recommended the meringue.

“Try the lemon – it's zesty with a hint of orange and lime.”

Sampling a few desserts for himself, Ferdinand waited for Dorothea to begin her questioning. His friend was almost always up-to-date on the latest news and gossip – she had to be aware of what people were saying about him and Hubert. He wasn't sure exactly what the rumours were, but he had spied people looking their way and whispering amongst themselves on numerous occasions; Hubert also seemed satisfied with their reactions. Eating her fill, Dorothea delicately dotted at her lips with a napkin and finished with a quick sip of her tea. Straightening up in her chair, she pinned Ferdinand with a rather accusing glare.

“Why did I hear about you and Hubert from one of my actresses, Ferdie?”

Ferdinand felt a cold sweat break out upon his brow. The songstress looked a little hurt, and he could understand why. During the war, she and Lorenz had been the only two people to know how he felt about Hubert. Despite her gossiping ways, she'd kept her promise of silence. The shared secret had actually helped deepen the friendship with Ferdinand, Dorothea and Lorenz. He felt overwhelmingly guilty, despite his and Hubert's relationship being a total farce. Ferdinand decided that the only way he could lie through this was to add a little truth to his words.

“It almost feels unreal. I didn't want to tell you in case it fell apart.” He looked up at Dorothea with a sad smile. “What if nothing more comes of it?” _What if Hubert is a greater actor than even her?_

Dorothea's face softened, and she leaned forward to place her hand on his arm comfortingly.

“Oh, Ferdie... I know you are afraid of being hurt. But if Hubert can't see what a wonderful catch you are, then he can go rot!”

Her fierce exclamation pulled a choked laugh from Ferdinand. “Goddess, surely you do not mean that!”

Dorothea giggled at his shocked face. “Well, no, but the sentiment still stands. He is lucky to have you.”

Mercifully, she allowed Ferdinand to control the conversation from then on, happy to ramble on about her latest play and vent about the awful work ethic of one of her biggest stars. Ferdinand ended up agreeing to bring Hubert along to the opening act. Dorothea grinned impishly. “I'll try not to grill him too harshly, but no promises.”

They parted ways with a kiss to each cheek. Dorothea headed over to visit Edelgard, wondering if the professor would be present as well. Ever a romantic, she despaired over the two women, who seemed far too comfortable pretending not to be deeply in love with one another. Life was too short—and often, too cruel—for fear to get in the way of potential happiness.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 23.11.19: Updated with rewrite.

Ferdinand was saddling Freya in the stables when Hubert found him. He had his back to the mage, and as he secured the straps, he spoke soothingly to the mare. It seemed like the only time he was subdued was when in the company of horses. Combing his fingers through her mane, Ferdinand chuckled when Freya nuzzled into him with a muffled snort. Careful of startling them, Hubert walked over with a purposeful stride, his boots crunching loudly on the gravel and hay.

Ferdinand turned with a bright smile that faded slightly when he saw who approached. His honey-brown eyes darted around nervously, avoiding his gaze, and his cheeks were flushed. Hubert frowned, wondering if the cavalier had been expecting someone else. He felt a spark of jealousy at the thought. Before he could question why, he snarked, "I'm sorry - are you waiting for someone else, _my love_?" He felt irritated beyond measure - Ferdinand would making a fool of not just him but Her Majesty if he was carrying on with another behind their backs. "Should I leave before they arrive?"

Ferdinand gaped in shock, both at the accusation and the endearment, but it was quickly replaced by outrage. "I - Excuse me? I am not waiting for anyone!" Turning back to his horse, he put one foot in a stirrup, hoisting himself up in a fluid motion and grabbing a hold of the reins. Feeling powerful from up high, Ferdinand looked down his nose at the mage. He wasn't sure exactly what Hubert was trying to say, but if he was suggesting that Ferdinand was jeopardising their mission, then the mage could - then Hubert could sod off. _Goddess, I sound just like Dorothea when she has had too much wine - my vocabulary has become quite varied thanks to her._

"I am going on a long ride with Freya. I would invite you, _darling_, but I am in no mood for further accusations."

He almost stumbled over the word 'darling', but his need to show up Hubert overcame his nerves. Ferdinand would have said more—a lot more—but there were people nearby; one of the stablehands was mucking out the stalls as they spoke, his movements slow and awkward as he tried to listen in on their conversation. With a toss of his long curls, Ferdinand urged Freya forward with the nudge of his heels, leaving Hubert alone with the stablehand. He glared venomously at the boy who, when caught staring, hastily ducked his head down and got back to work.

Annoyed, Hubert knew he had the wrong of it, but he hated the idea of having to apologise to the cavalier. Knowing that he ought to get it over and done with, lest it drag on and interfere with their mission, he commanded the stablehand to ready a horse for him. "Make sure it is Buttercup." He felt foolish, but he reminded himself that he did not name her. Looming over the boy with his arms crossed, Hubert tapped his foot impatiently until he was finally able to seat himself, unsteadily, atop the palomino. He patted Buttercup on the neck almost affectionately - due to her calm and steady nature, she was the only horse Hubert could say he trusted not to buck him off. Intentionally, at least.

With directions and help from people along the way, Hubert soon spotted his colleague in the distance, his copper hair bright against the green fields. Ferdinand was heading towards the forest that surrounded the castle walls - Hubert would have to catch up with him before he lost him within the trees. As Buttercup shifted into a gallop, Hubert held on for dear life. _If I fall and break my neck, I expect you to forever be burdened with guilt, Ferdinand von Aegir._

* * *

By the time Hubert reached where he last saw Ferdinand, there was an unpleasant strain in the muscles of his thighs, buttocks, and even his abdomen. He hadn't ridden a horse in months. Thankfully, Buttercup was familiar with the terrain, and she carefully guided him over the rocky hills and into the forest with ease. Slowing down, Hubert listened carefully while also looking for tracks. Picking up Ferdinand's trail, he and Buttercup made their way through the thick woods until the tree line sloped up a hill and opened into a grassy clifftop. All of Enbarr could be seen from this private little outlook, the city districts sprawled across the horizon. Hubert made a note to accompany Edelgard here in the future. He was certain that she could sketch a wonderful landscape of this place.

"Hubert."

He pulled up next to Ferdinand; Buttercup and Freya nickered softly to one another, bumping noses in greeting. In a vivid contrast, the cavalier scowled at Hubert, his temper about to boil over. His day had started so well: his coffee bean order had arrived sooner than expected; the cook, Mrs Jameson, had given him some iced tea and fresh scones; and Freya had been incredibly eager to go out for a ride. Then Hubert had spoiled it all by accusing him of putting their mission at risk. _The gall of that man - how dare he accuse me of... of cheating!_

"Why are you here? I wish to be alone." Ferdinand tried not to sound as petulant as he felt. He was going for coldly dignified. Dismounting, he tied Freya to a tree before turning to face Hubert with his arms crossed against his chest. Hubert slid down with less grace, his muscles protesting, and he tied Buttercup to the same tree. The two mares whinnied happily as they lowered their heads to pull at the grass.

Hubert cleared his throat, forcing himself to look Ferdinand in the eyes; it took a monumental amount of effort to not look away. He was used to being glared at, in general - Hubert was well aware that he was an acquired taste to most. Normally he would not care, as the only opinion of import was Edelgard's. Yet it was difficult to stand there with Ferdinand looking at him with undisguised hurt and anger on that lightly freckled face. Hubert shuffled awkwardly on the spot as he struggled to come up with the right thing to say.

"Ferdinand, I..." He licked his lips nervously. "My words earlier were uncalled for. I made an assumption about you that I shouldn't have, and I..." Hubert swallowed hard. "I apologise most sincerely."

Ferdinand relaxed almost immediately at the apology. Pouting, he muttered, "I would never put our mission at risk, Hubert."

Hubert nodded. "Of course not. At least, not intentionally."

Sighing, Ferdinand figured that was the best he could expect from the mage. He grabbed the blanket and basket attached to Freya's saddle. Spreading the thick, checkered blanket on the ground, he took a seat and looked up at Hubert expectantly. He patted the spot next to him. Hubert stared in open confusion, and the cavalier chuckled at his blank expression. Ferdinand thought he looked rather adorable, even if he was still a little mad at him. "Well, you may as well join me, Hubert. Mrs Jameson always packs enough for two."

Gingerly sitting down, Hubert's stomach conveniently growled when Ferdinand opened the basket to reveal pumpkin scones, blackberries, and a glass bottle of iced tea. Grinning at the mage, Ferdinand buttered a scone and took a big bite, moaning in delight. Hubert's cheeks burned at the sound. He shoved a scone in his mouth to distract himself, almost choking as he swallowed down a big chunk. How he managed to get through the rest of the lunch, he did not know. _Has Ferdinand always eaten his food with such... vigor? It's positively obscene._

After eating, they lounged back against the blanket, both relaxed and a little sleepy. Neither felt inclined to break the comfortable silence with useless chatter. As time passed, the sun dipped just low enough to stream through the tree tops. Sunlight lit up Ferdinand's curls like ribbons of gold, and with such little distance between them, Hubert could see the flecks of gold in his honey-brown eyes. Ferdinand rolled to face him on his side, smiling softly. "You know, I've known you longer than almost anyone." He seemed to be scrutinising Hubert's face intently, as though looking for something in particular. “If not for our years of animosity, we could have been friends long ago. Do you think it could have been possible?” Hubert didn't know how to answer that. His life had always been about Edelgard, even as a child. It was what he was raised for - his very reason for existing.

He was saved from replying when an arrow abruptly thudded between them, pinning the blanket to the ground. Another arrow joined the first, narrowly missing Ferdinand's neck thanks to his quick reflexes. Rolling away, they both leapt to their feet, each readying a spell in their hands. While no master of the mystic arts like Hubert, Ferdinand's skills were nothing to scoff at – besides, he had left his lance at the castle. Scanning the area around them, calculating where the enemy could be based on the trajectory and angle of the arrows, Ferdinand pointed down the hill towards dense thicket where he spotted some movement. “Over there, Hubert!”

Hubert raced on foot towards the thicket, while Ferdinand untied Freya and leapt upon her back, racing past the mage within a matter of seconds. Urging her on faster with a shout, he burst into the bushes, disappearing from Hubert's view. But the terrain there was even more uneven than from the way he came - full of rocks and slippery clay, with the trees growing closer and closer together the further he rode. Ferdinand eventually had to admit defeat, returning back to where Hubert was inspecting the bushes. Dismounting, he rushed over to Hubert, who was carefully pulling something from within the brambles. It was a scrap of fabric, dyed maroon and of decent quality material, but more importantly, possibly from their assailant.

“Do you think it is from the killer? I thought we had until the end of the month!”

Hubert put the fabric away in his pocket, frowning. “Perhaps they seized an opportunity... Or perhaps it was an enemy of the Empire. I'm sure we can agree that we have plenty of those.”

Looking back to Ferdinand, he cursed under his breath. There was a thin but bloody trail on the cavalier's throat, already starting to seep down into his cravat. Cupping the back of Ferdinand's head, he grabbed his chin with the other hand and tilted his head back to get a closer look. Ferdinand's eyes almost shut automatically at being manhandled. His shortness of breath had nothing to do with chasing their attacker.

“You are injured! Why did you not say anything?”

Ferdinand prodded at the shallow wound with his hand, his fingertips coming back red. Ferdinand looked a little startled - he hadn't felt anything at the time, but now that the adrenaline was fading, he could feel the slightest sting turn into a throb. Taking a deep breath, he pulled himself from Hubert's grasp.

“It is only a scratch, Hubert. But we must collect the arrows! And poor Buttercup is still tied up to a tree - come along now, Freya.”

Ferdinand started to lead his horse back up the hill when Hubert nimbly stepped in front of him, almost causing them to collide. Before Ferdinand could complain, the mage quickly tied a handkerchief around his neck, brushing back his long curls carefully. A shudder ran down Ferdinand's spine as gloved fingers brushed against his skin ever so gently. Intensely aware of how close Hubert was to him, his cheeks flooded with colour. Stepping away quickly, he looked away and murmured, "Thank you," before grabbing Freya's reins and leading her to Buttercup.

While Ferdinand soothed the two horses, handing them each a baby carrot from his pocket, Hubert dug out one of the arrows to take a closer look. The design seemed familiar; it was simple but sturdy, and the arrowhead was well-crafted from solid materials, if a little hastily made. The sort of arrow that was mass produced.

Packing up, they made their way carefully back to the castle, keeping an eye out for their assailant. Once stabling the horses—Ferdinand insisted on doing it himself, so Hubert had to wait—they went straight to Edelgard's office. If whoever attacked them was in fact the killer, then they finally had some physical clues to work with. But it also meant that they were becoming opportunistic, making them less predictable and perhaps even more dangerous.

Hubert and Ferdinand may have to up the stakes in order to stay ahead – and alive.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update: 10.12.19
> 
> I'm so sorry for the lack of recent updates! I became ill, and I had a real bad time with it. I'm hoping to get back on the writing wagon, though!

Edelgard was working alongside Byleth in her office when Hubert and Ferdinand barged in past the guards, requesting an urgent meeting. Her eyes immediately homed in on Ferdinand's blood-stained bandage, the arrows held in his hand, and the way Hubert hovered close by his side. The mage was positively brimming with worry.

“You are injured, Ferdinand! What happened?”

Edelgard stepped closer to quickly assess the cavalier for any further wounds. Satisfied that he was otherwise well, she lead them over towards the seating area. Taking the spot next to Ferdinand, she leaned over to gently place a hand on his arm. “Please, take your time and do not strain yourself.” Edelgard smiled in what she hoped was a comforting manner. She had never been good at consoling others, but she had learned over the years that it was better to try than not.

Edelgard's genuine concern touched Ferdinand's heart. He hadn't believed it as a youth, too full of one-sided rivalry and self-importance, but Edelgard's emotions ran as deeply as any other. The emperor simply expressed herself differently from how Ferdinand did, who could now admit that he was far flashier about his feelings than most. Wishing to quickly assuage her worries, Ferdinand and Hubert explained the attack. They omitted that it was an argument which led to them being together alone and far away from the castle walls. Neither wished to cause either Edelgard or Byleth to question their suitability at the task.

“Alas, we cannot be certain it was the murderer who attacked us. It does not fit the pattern so far established, which would add in an element of opportunism – a far more troubling thought, in all honesty.” The mage clicked his tongue as he mulled over the facts. “No, it is more likely that we were beset by an enemy of the Empire.”

Edelgard nodded, expression grave. “That is certainly a possibility. There will always be those who oppose our vision for the world, sadly.”

Byleth, who had been listening quietly, pointed at the two arrows on the coffee table. “I take it these belong to the assailant?”

“Yes,” said Hubert, and he pulled out the scrap of fabric from his pocket to place next to the arrows. “I also discovered this material in the bushes. Ferdinand assures me that the area we visited is largely unknown, so I am fairly confident that it, too, belongs to the attacker.”

The colour of the material closely matched the curtains in the room, a deep and rich cherry-red like much of the castle décor. Ferdinand personally felt that it made the castle dark and dreary, but thankfully, he had been allowed to redecorate his office and quarters in brighter colours. Perhaps he had gone a little overboard in his bedroom, but the green and blues of his office made his workdays a lot cheerier.

Edelgard and Byleth both leaned in to inspect the clues more closely. Byleth picked up an arrow, feeling the quality of the fletching and testing the strength of the wood. “It is akin to the arrows our archers use.” Neither had any ideas regarding the fabric, except that it was similar to many uniforms within the city.

Hubert sighed. “I thought as much myself. I shall send agents around to the local manufacturers. Regardless of who attacked us and why, we shall do our best to investigate these clues.”

Ferdinand piped up suddenly. “But if our assailant was the serial killer...” He clenched his fists in his lap. “If we can no longer predict when they will strike, then it is our duty to warn the citizens.”

Nodding, Edelgard agreed.

“Yes, I'm afraid we must let the people know. Perhaps you can draft a flyer, Ferdinand? We could also add some of our standing army to the city guard.”

Standing, she began to pace the room, the situation frustrating her to no end. Edelgard did not wish to incite panic, nor did she wish for the murderer to know that they were investigating, but she had an unpleasant feeling that things were only going to get worse. She could not, in good conscience, leave her people ignorant to the evil lurking the streets.

“Make the flyer appeal to everyone, however. I do not wish to draw attention to the... exact nature of the victims, lest we encourage copy cat behaviour.”

After checking once again that Ferdinand was truly fine with not seeing a healer, Edelgard dismissed the two men with a kind but stern order to 'go and have some rest'. Sighing, she made a note to increase the security around the city. She would be seeing both Ladislava and Randolph von Bergliez—Caspar's uncle and a general in the imperial army—over supper, so Edelgard could mention it to them then. Byleth said she would join them that evening, too, to her delight. They just had a couple dozen reports to get through first.

* * *

Hubert accompanied the cavalier to his rooms once again. The mage kept glancing at Ferdinand's neck, clearly concerned about his injury. It truly was just a scratch, but he could not blame Hubert for worrying – it was a terrifying situation to be in, now that he had time to reflect. Ferdinand had been at war, and had even killed his fair share of enemy soldiers and bandits, but it was entirely different to be attacked when wholly unsuspecting of it. Had his reflexes been any slower, he surely would have died from an arrow in the neck. Hubert was ill-versed in Faith magic—it was unnatural to him, a man who could kill someone with the swish of a hand—and would have had difficulty stopping Ferdinand from bleeding out there in the forest.

Upon reaching his door, they lingered at the threshold. Not wishing to be alone, Ferdinand asked, “Would you like to come in? We can ask for our supper to be brought up here.”

Hubert shifted in place momentarily before admitting to himself that he didn't want to be alone, either. He was also curious to see Ferdinand's rooms – Edelgard had once confessed that Ferdinand had decorated his quarters with enough colours to make her head spin.

“Certainly, Ferdinand. That sounds agreeable.”

Smiling gratefully, if a little tiredly, Ferdinand led the mage inside. “Please, make yourself comfortable. I believe there is some coffee in the cabinet under the tea – Dorothea practically inhales it when she is working on a new play or opera.”

While Hubert brewed them some coffee and tea, Ferdinand rang the bell for a servant, organising for their meals to be brought over within the hour. Taking a seat in front of the recently lit fireplace, Ferdinand finally allowed himself to relax. He leaned his head back against the well-cushioned armchair and closed his eyes, the fatigue of the day suddenly hitting him like a tonne of bricks.

* * *

The bustle of two servants bringing their meals woke Ferdinand from his unexpected nap. He blushed with embarrassment, the teasing smirk on Hubert's face making Ferdinand flush an even deeper red. Turning his back on the mage, Ferdinand busied himself with thanking the servants for their efforts. The two young girls giggled back at him, taken in by his handsome smile and pleasant manners. Hubert was certain that Ferdinand had no idea of the effect he was having on them. _How typical of Von Aegir, _he mused. _Oblivious even to his own charms._

Once alone, they moved to the dining table, and Ferdinand smiled sheepishly at Hubert. “I am terribly sorry for falling asleep, Hubert. I must have been incredibly exhausted.”

Hubert hummed before replying, his tone light. “You are forgiven. On any other day I would have thought you found me boring, but I can make an exception just this once.”

Relieved, Ferdinand laughed, the glow of the nearby candelabra glinting off his copper curls as his hair swayed. “Oh, Hubert, you could never bore me.” The candid statement had Hubert flushing all the way down to his pale chest. Ferdinand was too busy staring at the tablecloth to notice, mentally kicking himself for once again speaking without thinking first. Anxiety twisted away at his insides, his deep-seated yearning for the mage surging up to make Ferdinand feel sick with desperation and need.

Hubert cleared his throat loudly. He muttered, “I am glad of it. Shall we eat?” and Ferdinand nodded enthusiastically, eager for the distraction. Pouring them each some wine, Ferdinand clinked glasses with Hubert. His smile felt as forced as his fake cheer. “May we never be shot at again!”

They ate in strained silence. Hubert's gaze kept returning to the handkerchief around Ferdinand's neck. There was something simmering inside, tightening his chest; rationally, he knew it to be anxiety and fear. Ferdinand could have been killed—in another timeline, perhaps instead of sharing a meal with the cavalier, he was planning a funeral—and Hubert wouldn't have been able to prevent it. He was a poor healer, better at taking lives than saving them. Hubert made a note to request some Faith training from Linhardt; the heir of House Hevring would undoubtedly be reluctant to part from his on-going Crest research, but Hubert would find a way to 'convince' him.

He was startled from his thoughts by Ferdinand's hesitant touch, his hand resting upon his wrist. “Are you well, Hubert? You seem distressed.” Honey-brown eyes glimmered in the candlelight, and Ferdinand looked so earnest and sincere that Hubert felt his mouth go dry at being the focus of such attentions. Licking his lips, he saw how Ferdinand's gaze flickered to his mouth before he hastily looked down at his plate, a lovely flush on his cheeks. Even after the cavalier withdrew his hand, Hubert could still imagine the touch on his wrist as if Ferdinand's palm had burned its way through his very sleeve.

Ferdinand poked at his food with his fork. “My apologies, Hubert. My father did always say that I was far too physically affectionate for a noble.”

Scoffing at the mention of the former prime minister, Hubert swirled the red wine in his glass before taking a sip. Ferdinand wondered if the mage used a spell to keep the liquid from crashing up like a turbulent wave; every time he tried to swirl wine, most of it ended up outside of the glass.

“Your father was a fool on many levels, Ferdinand. You are perfectly fine as is.”

Ferdinand tried not to smile like a fool, but he couldn't help it. Warmth bloomed in his chest, and he felt a different type of embarrassment this time. “Thank you, Hubert.”

They finished the meal with minimal discussion, sticking to safe topics such as the ball and Dorothea's upcoming show. The songstress was soon to debut her latest play about two knights on opposite sides of a war, who grew up together and end up falling in love despite being enemies. It was a tale of compromise, sacrifice, betrayal, and most of all, love. Hubert thought it sounded incredibly derivative, but Ferdinand managed to needle him into going along with him on the opening night.

“Dorothea shall be delighted! You so rarely join us at the theatre. Edelgard—Her Majesty—will also be pleased to have your company.” Ferdinand's excited ramble faltered when he remembered that Dorothea thought them a couple. “Dorothea will tease us, of course. She thinks we are in love.” _She knows that I am in love, because I have always been._

Hubert grimaced. “Of course she does. I suppose she finds it all incredibly romantic.” The mage seemed annoyed, the hint of a scowl darkening his face. Ferdinand's chest ached at the sight. Standing abruptly, he headed towards the door, not so subtly indicating that Hubert should leave.

Hubert frowned but gathered his gloves and coat, joining the cavalier by the door. Ferdinand smiled sadly up at the mage as he ushered him out into the cold, empty corridor. “Fear not, Hubert. It won't be much longer until we can go our separate ways.” The heavy wooden door was shut in his face before Hubert could reply, the latch of the lock momentous in some yet unknown way. He had the feeling that he had done something wrong, though Hubert had not the faintest idea what it could be. Hours later, as he struggled to fall asleep, Ferdinand's sad smile refused to leave his mind.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter sees the rating go up from T to M! Lemme know what you think!

“How are the preparations for the ball going?”

Edelgard pulled a face in response, and Byleth had to stifle a laugh at the sight. The former mercenary had heard from Ferdinand that there was a national shortage of wheat, causing a drastic change to the menu. To add to the stress, a violent rupture of the pipes had rendered the eastern half of the castle currently unlivable. The flooding had not only soaked into many of the guest rooms, rendering the plush rugs damp and foul-smelling, but water had also seeped its way into Ferdinand's quarters. In truth, it was little more than an inconvenience, but it was costing them time, and with less than two weeks left to go, their time was precious.

“Ferdinand tells me that his rooms smell of mildew and wet dog.”

This made Edelgard chuckle. She could all too well imagine the scene, with the cavalier's nose wrinkled in disgust and his hands waving in the air as he retold the story dramatically. The unfortunate situation also sparked an idea in her mind, one that could be used to their advantage regarding the ministers' special task. She decided to run the suggestion by Byleth first, the older woman's opinion of incredible importance to her. To her relief, the professor—she would perhaps be forever stuck with that title—agreed with her idea, even praising her for thinking of it. Smiling almost shyly, cheeks warm, Edelgard rang for someone to summon Hubert and Ferdinand to her office.

* * *

Hubert knew that Her Majesty's idea was sound—clever, even—but he could not help but wonder if she were in fact punishing him for something. Because having a half naked Ferdinand von Aegir in his _bedroom _certainly seemed like a punishment. Hubert had been looking forward to his solitude after a long day of reading through reports and testing out some new reagents, and to find that Ferdinand had been moved into his quarters indefinitely was the very opposite of a relaxing evening. 

The mage knew it was a logical move, to further their facetious relationship as well as provide Ferdinand somewhere to stay while his rooms were cleaned and repaired. The guest rooms on the western side were not as numerous or ornate as on the eastern side, and would therefore need to be renovated in order to host the most important of guests that would be arriving a few days before the ball. The flooding of the eastern ward was an untimely setback.

Even so, to have the cavalier sitting at his dressing table in nothing but a night shirt - Hubert's stomach was tying itself into knots at the sight. Ferdinand was humming to himself as he threaded his hair into one long braid, knowing that to neglect doing so would mean his hair would be a complete rat's nest come morning. He spied Hubert's reflection in the mirror, his arms crossed across his chest and expression sour. The mage looked wholly uncomfortable with the situation; Ferdinand couldn't blame him, but it really wasn't  _that _ bad.

“Come now, Hubert. We are friends, are we not? Surely we can share quarters with grace and maturity.”

Ferdinand turned to smile up at Hubert, and his heart suddenly leapt up to his throat. Hubert was unbuttoning his high collar with precise, methodical movements, and Ferdinand found he couldn't look away as more and more pale skin was revealed. At the first glimpse of downy chest hair, Ferdinand jumped up from his seat in a panic, stammering, “O-Oh my, look at the time! I had better turn in for the night!”

Racing over to the velvet chaise he had claimed, which stood at the end of the canopied four poster bed, Ferdinand fluffed up his pillows and huddled under the blanket with his back to Hubert. His hearing in overdrive, Ferdinand felt as though he could hear every single rustle of fabric as the mage undressed ever so slowly.

“When morning arrives,” drawled Hubert, “I'll be sure to remind you that I warned you of how uncomfortable that chaise is."

Ferdinand huffed in annoyance. “An exaggeration, I'm sure.” Nestling further into his blanket, he muttered a grumpy, “Good night.” Shifting restlessly, he remained tense until Hubert finally doused the softly glowing lamp on the bedside table.

“Good night, Ferdinand.”

* * *

Reading through his agents' reports, Hubert mulled over the new information. The scrap of fabric had been traced to a local distributor of uniforms and worker apparel. That in itself wasn't particularly helpful, but his agents did in fact learn that the fabric's colour was specific to the cloaks of the city watch. The arrows, too, had been traced back to a well-established fletcher and arrowsmith; they supplied numerous organisations, including the city watch.

The main issue now was figuring out how to narrow their search criteria. They had the date and time of attack, but there were well over five hundred people making up the city guard. Enbarr was an enormous city, meaning there were multiple barracks, towers, and training halls scattered all over.

Sighing, Hubert began writing an official request to the captain of the city guard for a list of all members, those both current and past, active and inactive, and even those noted as deceased.

* * *

Three nights later, and Ferdinand was almost ready to admit defeat. His back was constantly sore, with his shoulders and neck aching from being hunched up on the chaise each night. To add to his troubles, he kept waking up in terror as his body rolled towards the edge of the lounge, threatening to pitch him over onto the floor. He hoped that a hot bath would ease some of the tension in his muscles. Lorenz had sent him a lovely care package recently, and along with some truly brilliant tea leaves, the Alliance leader had sent him some bath oils.

Adding a few drops of the rose and vanilla oil, the scent curling in the air with the steam, Ferdinand sank into the hot water with a blissful groan. Relaxing back against the tub, he closed his eyes and felt how the pain left his body for the first time in days. Running a hand down the flat plane of his stomach, he felt the faint stirrings of desire low in his groin. It had been some time since he'd last gotten relief, not since before he moved into Hubert's rooms, and he was but a young man with healthy appetites. Biting at his lip, he glanced at the bathroom door, reminding himself that the mage had said not to wait up – that he had business to attend to late into the night.

Making a snap decision, he gripped his cock in one hand, already half hard. Letting out a breathy sigh, Ferdinand slowly stroked himself until he was fully erect, the water making his motions nice and smooth. Tightening his fist with one upward stroke, he grasped his sac with his other hand, cupping and rolling his testes. Moaning, he let his head fall back as his movements sped up, water sloshing loudly around him. He could already feel the tightening of his groin, and he whined as he fucked up into his fist, imagining strong hands pinning him down while a darkly amused voice whispered filthy imagery into his ear.

Opening his eyes, Ferdinand almost shrieked to find Hubert leaning against the door, watching him while he shed his coat and began to unbutton his collar, a devious smirk on his face.

“Care for some company?”

Stepping forward, Hubert pulled his tucked-in shirt free, a trail of dark hair against pale skin disappearing into his trousers. His pupils were blown wide with lust, and Ferdinand felt compelled to say yes, to let the mage do anything he wanted and more. Swallowing hard when Hubert finally shed the last of his clothes, his cock hanging heavy and flush with desire, Ferdinand moved to allow the mage to slide between his legs, a wave of water crashing over the edge as Hubert pressed himself to the cavalier with a groan.

With a startled gasp, Ferdinand spluttered as water entered his mouth. Coughing, he grasped at the side of the tub and pulled himself into a seated position while he caught his breath. Since the water was lukewarm, a chill in the air, he had fallen asleep for quite a while. Quickly washing himself properly, he resolutely ignored his half hard cock, a full-bodied flush breaking out from memories of his sordid dream. Ferdinand hoped desperately that he wouldn't have to see Hubert that evening, and he decided to retire to bed early to reduce the chances.

* * *

Hubert entered his quarters quietly, a single candle left flickering near the door in the otherwise pitch-black rooms. Quickly washing up, loathe to slide under his quilt with alchemical residue oiling up his hair, he threw on a clean nightshirt and headed towards the bedroom with lantern in hand. As he approached the bed, he could see the faint outline of a hunched over Ferdinand on the chaise, his body contorted in what must have been an uncomfortable position. Fed up with listening to the cavalier's whines of discomfort during the night, Hubert knelt down next to the chaise, placing the lantern on the ground. With a gentle shake of Ferdinand's shoulder, he murmured, “Come now, Ferdinand. The bed is large enough for the two of us.”

Waking instantly from his fitful sleep, Ferdinand twisted around to face the mage. Upon finding Hubert's face within mere inches of his own, Ferdinand's traitorous mind took him back to his dream in the bath. He desperately hoped that the darkness concealed his burning cheeks. As he awakened further, he noticed how Hubert had washed his hair, the damp strands slicked back to fully reveal his sharp features. Ferdinand thought it terribly unfair, how someone could be so effortlessly handsome.

“Ferdinand.”

Pulled back to the present, the cavalier smiled sheepishly.

“My apologies, Hubert. Could you repeat yourself?”

Hubert pursed his lips as if unsure of whether to continue, but in the end, he stared almost challengingly at Ferdinand.

“Sleep in the bed. I tire of listening to your pained moans throughout the night.” His tone left little room for argument. Ferdinand didn't even bother to put up a fight; exhausted, both physically and emotionally at this point, he simply nodded and stood, his muscles stiff. Walking over to the bed, he slid beneath the covers and sighed blissfully at how perfectly soft yet firm the mattress was. Stretching out, Ferdinand pressed his face into the soft pillow and promptly fell asleep.

When Hubert joined him, he allowed himself to slowly take in Ferdinand's relaxed brow, the slight upturn of his lips, and the way the candle light seemed to gently caress his skin. _This was a terrible idea, _he realised, finally understanding that the true cost of the mission would likely be his heart.


	8. Chapter 8

The streets of Enbarr were eerily quiet despite the late hour. Flyers with the heading 'MURDERER IN OUR MIDST: BEWARE' were visible from every direction you looked, plastered on walls, lamp posts, benches, and on the side of street carts. Even the whores were being careful, making sure to work in pairs, or loitering close to a busy area like one of the taverns. People were still going to drink their ale and wine, killer or no killer, but they made sure to stumble home with a friend or neighbour in tow.

He ducked his head as he passed a guard, pulling his hooded cloak down to further conceal his face. When he had first seen the flyers, panic had squeezed at his chest, and he had almost packed up then and there, ready to flee. But his partner had turned to him, a question in her eyes, and he had forced himself to calm. She had pointed to the flyers, and together they'd gone closer to read the information in full. While she expressed her shock and disgust, he simply nodded in agreement.

He had been careless. His first couple had been a revelation; finally, he had found a way to quiet his sick desires. He had watched the two men joined together, filled with both envy and lust while he touched himself through his pants. When he ejaculated, he was filled with a shame so potent that it ripped through him like the whip of his father's belt on his bare skin. Disgusted with himself, he directed his anger on the two men, grabbing the first weapon he could see—a discarded iron spike—and rushing forward with a fierce cry while stabbing at them over and over again. When it was finally done, the men no longer fighting back, he was filled with the most blissful sense of calm.

But it had only lasted a month. By the time his next few days' leave came around, it was simmering under his skin again. He found himself looking at men, wondering what it would like to touch them - to kiss and hold them. He would admire their lean, hard lined bodies, and find the women unappealingly soft in comparison. Self-loathing would build until he scratched deep lines into his skin with his nails, but it wasn't enough. And so he killed again, for the second time.

A month later, and he killed his third couple. He hadn't intended to kill the two young men, but when one of them spied him hiding amongst the bushes and confronted him, he'd had no choice but to silence them both. With one lying bleeding from a rock to the temple, he drowned the brunette in the river where they'd been swimming naked. Washing away the blood and dirt from the bodies, he pretended that they were asleep, lying down with them on the riverbank until he couldn't ignore his duties any longer.

Two weeks later, and the relief he'd found was already ebbing away. He would hack at the training dummy and shoot at the targets until his muscles could raise his weapons no more, but it was not enough. He struggled to be civil towards his colleagues, and even his partner took care with her words around him, fear hiding behind her concern. It was while stationed near the forest outskirts that an opportunity arose. Two noblemen rode by, too far away for their conversation to be heard, but close enough for him to see that they were well-acquainted and at ease with one another. With a moment of hesitation, knowing his partner would return shortly from relieving herself, he made a decision to follow the men.

Running into the trees, he jogged through the forest before slowing down to a slow and careful pace when he heard the faint braying of horses. As he approached a clearing, he ducked down and crawled towards the bushes at the edge of the tree line. Peering through, he watched from afar as they picnicked before lounging back lazily on their small blanket, a drink shared between them. They both looked so handsome, so young and full of vigour, and it was insufferably unfair. Envy hit him deep in the gut, and he knew that he couldn't allow it—them—to continue.

He drew his bow, aiming at the copper-haired beauty, but his strained muscles failed just as he let his arrow loose. Swearing, he quickly notched another arrow and aimed it a little higher, but that too missed as his target rolled out of the way. Both men leapt to their feet, spells readied, and their movements indicated that they had far more military experience than he'd assumed any mere nobleman would. Knowing this would not end well for him, he fled, cloak snagging on some brambles. His struggle to free himself was noticed, and he heard the shout, “Over there, Hubert!”

Tugging his cloak free, he heard a rip but paid it no mind as he began to run deeper into the forest. He heard hooves behind him, so he changed directions and headed towards the rockier, slippery slopes that lead down into a different copse of trees. It was further from where he needed to go—where his partner was likely waiting—but he would circle back once he was safe from discovery. When the sound of his pursuer finally faded into nothing, he slowed down and took in some deep breaths, chest heaving. By the time he returned to his original position, he had been gone for so long that his partner had been forced to report him missing.

Hence him being suspended without pay, walking around town late at night. He still had daily duties, but they were restricted to the maintenance of the weapons and armour, as well as general cleaning. He had tried his best, had worked hard during the day and drank heavily during the evening, but the urges were still there. They gnawed at him, constantly on his mind and never giving him respite no matter how many times he burned marks into his flesh.

He paused as he spotted a beggar curled up in the corner of an alley way. Stepping closer with soft footsteps, he saw that it was a boy, perhaps around fifteen years of age. He was shivering, his threadbare clothes little more than rags, and his scrawny arms were wrapped around his bent knees. _Yes, _ he thought with a slow grin. _This will do nicely._


	9. Chapter 9

Ferdinand felt the most rested he had in days. His muscles no longer ached, and he was able to have a glorious stretch across the gigantic bed without fear of rolling off onto the hard floor. Opening his eyes to peer through his messy fringe, Ferdinand saw that Hubert was absent, already up and about. Patting the mage's side of the bed, he found it still slightly warm.

“Hubert?” He called out, voice still rough from sleep. “What time is it?”

The mage appeared in the doorway, holding a mug of coffee and already dressed for the day, though his collar was loose and he had yet to put on his coat. Ferdinand swallowed hard at the sight, feeling all too aware that he was only wearing a nightshirt, in Hubert's bed. Despite how innocent the whole situation was, simply sharing quarters while his were repaired, the cavalier couldn't help the way his pulse sped up. Shifting his legs under the covers, he saw how the movement caught Hubert's eyes; Ferdinand felt pinned to the spot as Hubert's gaze travelled up the entire length of his body, tortuously slow. But before they could make eye contact, Hubert looked away, and Ferdinand felt a deep, confusing sense of dejection.

Hubert cleared his throat, staring deep into his coffee. “It is half past eight.”

Ferdinand nodded dumbly before realising what Hubert had just said. Panicked, he leapt from the bed and rushed to get ready, wailing, “Oh no! I have a council meeting at nine!” The cavalier hastily put together an outfit, cursing himself for not doing so the night before like he usually did.

Hubert watched in amusement as Ferdinand ran around the room like a headless chicken. “I did try to wake you—several times, in fact—but you were quite resistant to my efforts.”

Glaring at the mage, Ferdinand shooed him away so he could get dressed in privacy. When he later ran past Hubert, who was lounging around at the dining table with the daily newspaper spread out before him, he was startled when a gloved hand shot out in his direction. Hubert held a wrapped sandwich out to him with one hand, turning a page ever so casually with the other.

“Go on – you need to eat, lest you agree to something stupid due to a lack of concentration.”

Ferdinand rolled his eyes, but he couldn't help but smile at the mage's consideration.

“Thank you, Hubert.”

“...You're welcome.”

Eating on his way to the council room, Ferdinand found that he had never enjoyed a simple sandwich quite so much.

* * *

Byleth and Edelgard were taking a stroll through the main gardens, their hands brushing up against each other's every now and then. Dark, water-filled clouds approached from the north, but for the time being, the garden was lit up beautifully by the mid-morning sun. The former mercenary had persuaded Edelgard to take a break from her work, knowing that she had been in the office since before dawn. Edelgard's nightmares had been worse this past month, likely due to the stress of the upcoming ball. Dark circles could still be seen through the foundation she had used to conceal her lack of sleep.

Walking closer to one of the thorny bushes, Edelgard lifted a hand to gently hold up one of the hanging roses. She stroked a velvety smooth petal with her thumb, admiring the vivid contrast of her skin against a crimson so dark that it looked almost black. Sighing, Edelgard mused, “I suppose these should be cut soon. It seems a shame, but I recall that Lorenz is rather partial to roses. I'll have to ensure the maids decorate his rooms with them.” Stepping to stand shoulder to shoulder with the emperor, Byleth found it curious how a colour so lovely on a flower could, in turn, be absolutely horrific during times of war. She thought of her father most of all, still haunted by the sight of him bleeding out in her arms. Smiling sadly, Byleth pulled herself from her thoughts, returning to the present.

“I think Lorenz would be happier if you simply took him on a tour of the gardens.”

Edelgard raised one delicately curved brow. “Oh? If that is the case, I would happily take him on one during his stay.”

Continuing through the gardens, they headed into the hedge maze, the towering walls lush and thickly leaved. Edelgard knew her way through the maze like the back of her hand, having played there often as a child. She and her siblings would chase one another, their laughter and shrieks of joy filling the air. It was bittersweet, but it didn't hurt as much to remember the good times now. Spying their destination just ahead, they sat down on one of the stone benches that faced the bubbling fountain making up the centre of the maze.

Looking up at the sky, the dark clouds finally starting to swirl above, Edelgard asked, “Do you ever think he will forgive me?”

Despite no name given, Byleth knew who was on Edelgard's mind. Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd—how he had been treated during the war and even beforehand—was a deep regret of the emperor's. At the academy, Edelgard had thought their goals so incompatible that she had pushed both Dimitri and Claude von Reigan out from the very beginning. Her cooperation with Thales and his minions had unfortunately tied Edelgard to the Tragedy of Duscur in Dimitri's mind, no matter how much she had tried to explain otherwise. The professor had done her best to help them all come to terms with what was and wasn't fact, but the truth was that her former students were going to have to repair their damaged relationships mostly on their own.

Choosing her words carefully, Byleth replied, “Dimitri may forgive you sooner if you allow him to help you in the fight against Thales. If you allow him some sort of vengeance.”

She paused, unsure if she should continue. Edelgard sensed Byleth's hesitation and urged her to continue.

“Please, do not stop for fear of how I'll react. I... I treasure your honesty, Professor.”

Edelgard encouraged the former mercenary with a smile; it was tremulous, but there was courage in the way she squared her shoulders and turned to face Byleth fully. Nodding, Byleth faced the emperor in return and said, “Since Dimitri insisted on bringing a representative of the church to the ball, I suggest you discuss with the both of them what their plans for the future are. If Dimitri and Rhea are to be believed, the Church of Seiros is and has always been about keeping the world at peace.”

Edelgard looked uncomfortable, but she stayed silent, letting Byleth finish.

“I know you distrust the church. But you've shared with me, once, that you weren't sure how much of what you've been told were lies. Shouldn't we get to the bottom of this?”

Sighing, Edelgard looked away, but she had to admit that the professor was right. She had made mistakes in the past due to misinformation, and while it was hard to separation truth from fact, she had to try. She needed to do better – to see things more objectively, the way Byleth always tried to do.

“You are correct... as always.”

Byleth laughed loudly, startling them both. Her pale green eyes crinkled in amusement, and Edelgard thought the professor looked most beautiful like this, even if she were laughing at her expense.

“What is so amusing?”

“I am not always correct.”

“Oh? Since when were you not?” Genuinely curious, Edelgard tilted her head to the side with a faint furrow to her brow. _Cute, _thought Byleth.

“Remember when I thought Hubert had a crush on you?”

Both their cheeks pinked at this - Edelgard at the very idea, and Byleth at the memory of how jealous the thought had made her. Edelgard turned away, unable to look into those eyes that seemed to see right through her. She was ever conscious of her pining for the professor, and she feared that it was becoming more and more obvious over time. Clearing her throat, she replied, “Yes, well... I believe _everyone_ thought that, so you can be forgiven for thinking so, too.”

Fidgeting with the embroidery on her shawl, Edelgard pushed down the urge to hold Byleth's hand, which rested so innocently on the bench between them. She was saved by the spattering of rain as the clouds opened up above them, rushing them indoors as the droplets fell heavier and faster. Byleth walked Edelgard back to her office, and they parted reluctantly, promising to meet up again soon. Edelgard watched the professor walk away with an ache in her heart. She wondered if she would ever have the courage to confess her feelings, but the fear of rejection far outweighed any fear she'd ever felt in battle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've never actually written so much romance about two women, tbh! I hope I am doing alright with it!


End file.
